


3AM

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Stridercest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:04:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stridercest. Imported from FF.net.  Bro creeps into Dave's room at 3AM.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3AM

Dave hated it when his Bro stumbled into his bedroom at 3AM. He hated the smell of spirits, and the slurring of words. He hated the feel of his calloused fingers, and the bristly stubble on his chin. But he loved it when he felt the warmth kindle in his stomach, matching the warmth of his Bro's mouth. He loved the way his tongue fluttered, oh so gently, the way his fingers pinched oh so firmly. He loved when his Bro pulled his shirt over his head, and exposed his tanned, taut muscles. He loved stroking his fingers down his abs, down the trail of fine hairs leading to his jeans. He hated how fiddly his belt buckle was, but he loved what was underneath it, though. He loved when his Bro got rough; when he seized Dave's hips, pulled him up and turned him over, wrestled with blankets and shorts. He loved the jingle of a belt being undone, and the rasp of a zipper being lowered.

He loved the cold, wet fingers pressing against his entrance, the feeling of being stretched, and then-the feeling of being filled. Slowly at first, tentatively, stretching more than the fingers before it. He loved hearing his Bro's breath hiss out between his teeth, and feeling his fingernails dig into his hips, finding familiar welts. He loved the feeling of his Bro thrusting, messily before finding a rhythm, the feel of his hips hammering against him. He loved hearing choked out moans, the quickening pace before feeling his Bro's full weight put behind the final few thrusts, and it was all over. He hated how his Bro was then cold, distant, pulling out and adjusting his clothing before leaving and closing the door behind him. He hated how he felt used, how he felt dirty. He hated still feeling the marks on his hips, reminding him who had been there. But he loved his Bro. He loved his Bro very much.


End file.
